Talma was superb when he was urging the Roman Senate to refuse peace, thereby condemning himself to death; Talma was magnificent in that last cry which hung for two centuries after, like a menace, over the city of Dido: "To Carthage! to Carthage!" I returned to my quarters, this second time even more filled with admiration than on the first occasion; only, as I knew my way, I dispensed with the expense of a cab. Besides, my way was nearly the same as General Verdier's to the faubourg Montmartre; he left me at the corner of the rue Coquillière, shaking my hand and wishing me good luck. Next day, at ten, I presented myself at General Foy's. He lived at No. 64 rue du Mont-Blanc. I was shown into his study, and found him engaged upon his _Histoire de la Péninsule._ As I entered he was writing, standing against a table which could be lowered or raised as required. Round him, on chairs, on arm-chairs, on the floor, were scattered, in apparent confusion, speeches, proofs, maps and open books. When the general heard the door of his sanctum open he turned round. General Foy was, at that time, a man of about forty-eight or fifty years of age, thin, short rather than tall, with scanty grey hair, a projecting forehead, an aquiline nose and a bilious complexion. He carried his head high, his manner was short and his gestures commanding. I was announced. "M. Alexandre Dumas!" he repeated after the servant; "let him come in." I appeared before him, trembling all over. "Are you M. Alexandre Dumas?" he asked. "Yes, General." "Are you the son of General Dumas who commanded the Army of the Alps?" "Yes, General." "I have been told that Bonaparte treated him very unjustly and that this injustice was extended to his widow." "He left us in poverty." "Can I do anything for you?" "I confess, General, that you are nearly my sole hope." "How is that?" "Will you first make yourself acquainted with this letter from M. Danré." "Ah! worthy Danré!... You know him?" "He was an intimate friend of my father." "Yes, he lived a league from Villers-Cotterets, where General Dumas died.... And what is the good fellow doing?" "He is happy and proud to have been of some use to you in your election, General." "Of some use? Say rather he did everything!" said he, breaking open the letter. "Do you know," he continued, as he held the letter open without reading it,--"do you know that he made himself answerable on my account to the electors--body and soul, body and soul?... They did not want to appoint me! I hope his rash zeal did not cost him too much. Let me see what he says." He began to read. "Oh! oh! he commends you to me most pressingly; he is very fond of you, then?" "Almost as fond as he is of his own son, General." "I must first find out what you are fit for." "Oh! not good for much." "Bah! you surely know some mathematics?" "No, General." "You have at least some notion of algebra, of geometry, of physics?"